I remind myself that I’ve been through things just as scary as this. And that I can get through this one, too.
I close my eyes for a second as I gather my courage.
And then I let out a loud, wheezing gasp.
I hunch over in my chair, then rock back, so the chair wobbles on two of its wheels.
“Help,” I beg. “Help.”
Lance freezes mid-step. His head jerks towards me. “What did I say about beingquiet?”
“Help,” I gasp. “I can’t?—”
Then I start coughing hard enough to make my eyes water.
The chair rocks again.
Georgia cries out, “Hanna!”
Guilt jabs at me. She doesn’t know. She thinks something’s really wrong. But it’s better this way. More convincing.
“What’s going on?” Lance demands. “Why are you doing that?”
“My heart. I have… condition?—”
Then I let out an agonized howl.
The chair tips over.
“Hanna!” Georgia screams. “Help her!”
“What the fuck!” Lance barks. “This isn’t part of the plan!”
No. It’s not. Part of his, at least.
But it’s part of mine. And I hope like anything it works.
CHAPTER 4
JACK
“How are you feeling, Nor?”
Nora turns to me, a small smile curving her lips. “Better. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “Why would I know it already?”
“Because you’ve asked me at least ten times since we left your parents,” she replies. Amusement tinges her voice; a welcome change from her weary tone of earlier. When we left my parents’ place earlier this evening, Nora wasn’t soundingorlooking like her normal self. Her features were drawn and pale. Bluish smudges shadowed her eyes. And though she was trying her best to put on a good front, it was clear she wasn’t feeling well.
“Is there something wrong with me worrying about you?” I ask lightly. “You’ve been sick. Wouldn’t you worry about me if the positions were reversed?”
Turning her hand over, she threads her fingers between mine. “Of course. But I’m feeling okay. Really. Much better than before.”
She glances back at the road, now dusted with white. Ahead of us, the headlights reflect off the snowflakes that started falling half an hour ago. Snow melts into tiny droplets on the windshield before being swept away by the wipers.
“You don’t think your parents are mad we left early?” she asks. “I feel kind of bad. Your mom was talking about going out for brunch tomorrow morning…”
“Of course not.” As a car approaches from the other direction, I tense in anticipation. The roads aren’t too bad yet, but there are always those drivers who seem to forget how to drive in the snow. I can’t count how many near-accidents I’ve seen over the years, when someone brakes too fast and ends up spinning out, or they mistake the dark patches on the asphalt for water instead of ice.
